Beginnings, Old and New
by CarolineInMyMind
Summary: One-shot, I think. Back story to "Muscle Memory," which was back story to "Past Tense, Future Perfect."


The little Fiat sped down the road towards Harrogate. She loved this car, its responsiveness: how easily it handled, how effortless it was to shift gears. She didn't even have to think about it, so her mind went elsewhere, to less straightforward things. To Caroline, of course.

"Yeah, how likely is that?" God, she had been angry.

Or hurt.

* * *

_"You're attracted to me? Why on earth would you be attracted to me?"_

_Her question sounded almost scientific; it was certainly investigative. That was better, Kate supposed, than what she had feared. Anger. Outright rejection._

_"You're beautiful, Caroline. And brilliant. And you're very funny. You make me laugh." She reached out, tentatively, to rest her fingers on Caroline's broad, strong hand. Caroline started at her touch, but to Kate's surprise, rather than removing her hand, she simply shifted it so that she now held Kate's, her thumb brushing Kate's fingers._

_"I feel that way too." The barest whisper, her head bowed. Kate exhaled, slowly, gathering her thoughts. This was everything she had hoped for and not at all what she had expected._

_Caroline nervously -compulsively- felt the need to fill the silence. "I mean I'm not attracted to _myself_, obviously ..." she rambled, before her voice softened. "I'm attracted to you ..." Before Kate could even begin to react, Caroline had pulled her closer and moved in to kiss her._

_Such soft lips. Such longing, such determination. Such strength pulling her closer, closer. And then a pause, a retreat. Forehead against forehead. Breathing._

_Kate couldn't have been more surprised, more relieved. Couldn't have been more terrified._

* * *

She shifted down as the exit to Harrogate approached.

How did she let herself get to this? When did she turn into the kind of person who couldn't forgive? It's not like it was fun. Hearing that strangled cry as she shut the office door on her way out that morning last fall. Standing on the precipice of forgiveness when Lawrence, frightened, called that Saturday night ... but then walking away when confronted with Caroline's plea, watching her eyes fill with pain and her body crumple in defeat.

It's not like she didn't know that Caroline meant every word she said, or, when words failed, tried to convey what she felt in a look, a gesture.

That long, awful moment in the hospital, feeling the comfort of her presence, the reassurance of her hand. Dropping it. "Sorry."

"Oh it's ..." Nothing, she was going to say, but didn't. Couldn't. Because, of course, it wasn't nothing. So the room went quiet and the unbounded joy racing through two hearts suddenly slowed to one.

How on earth did she become that woman?

She shifted again to enter the roundabout that took her home.

* * *

_She had never been kissed like this before; she finally understood that odd phrase of measurement that her mother sometimes used - Caroline was truly kissing her to within an inch of her life. Her eyelids, reverently. Her lips, at first gently and then almost bruisingly. Her neck, and then lower as those powerful hands moved to loosen the top buttons of her shirt.  
_

_She paused, gripping that hand to hold it still above her pounding heart. This was everything she wanted, but it was almost too much.  
_

_"What are we doing, Caroline?"_

_"I don't really know. But I know I want to kiss you again." And she did.  
_

* * *

"Yeah, how likely is that?" God, she was angry. And it hurt.

Stop it, she told herself, just stop it. Say what you mean. So a whisper. "Sorry." Again, this time even softer. "Sorry, Kate." But she saw the disappointment in that beautiful face. The damage was done. Again.

She'd been gone for more than an hour now.

And why not?

* * *

_Would nobody answer the bloody door? Did she have to do everything herself? And who the hell would it be anyway, at this hour?_

_She couldn't have been more surprised to see them standing there. Her mother, so sad and apologetic, unable to utter it, yet somehow capable of this. Of bringing Kate here, an impossibly hopeful Kate, peeking up at her shyly in the dark._

_It took every ounce of strength she had left to stay standing, to put out her hand, and pull Kate into the house with her. She didn't even see her mother step away and drift down the path._

___Caroline couldn't have been more relieved, more terrified._

* * *

Everyone was laughing and dancing around her. Even Gillian, however ill-advisedly, had taken things into her own hands.

She gazed at the glass of juice in front of her. So much for taking it easy tonight. So much for trying to remain in control so she wouldn't say anything stupid to Kate.

"You have a nice Christmas, too."

When in fact what she meant was, "Please don't go. Please stay. Please come back to me."

The slight pause, the look, before Kate wordlessly turned and walked away.

When in fact, she had so obviously wanted Caroline to say something more, had so obviously wanted to be given the opportunity to say yes.

* * *

_She closed the door. Kate guided them to the couch; Caroline tucked her knees underneath herself as she sat. She struggled to speak._

_"Shhh. Shhh." All she could feel was the warmth of Kate's hand, cupping her chin, holding her face, stroking her hair. She sobbed._

_"I'm here, Caroline. I'm sorry I left. But your mother - she really does love you."_

_Caroline burst out laughing, a gasp really, as she tried to catch her breath. "Well, she shows it in a very peculiar way."_

_And then the sobbing stopped, and she looked at Kate, shyly, expectantly. "What are we doing?"_

_"Let's find out." Kate stood up, and put out her hand._

* * *

All of a sudden, it seemed, the car couldn't go fast enough. Why were there so many cars on the road Christmas Eve?

But then she was shifting down off the main road, then again from the village high street to the hotel's gravel drive.

Her heart was in her throat as she walked in, and she could barely speak. But she did, haltingly.

Caroline didn't say a word, but gripped her hand, hanging on fiercely.

Neither of them had ever been more relieved. More terrified.


End file.
